Trust the Future
by musicwarped
Summary: "It doesn't matter if there is a reason or not. Our lives coincided by fate. I know you don't believe in fate because there technically isn't any scientific proof that fate is real, but I don't care. You shouldn't be asking 'how', right now. 'How' isn't going to get us anywhere right now. The question we must ask right now is where do we go from here, with the information we have?"
1. 1-1 : Curtains

**A/N: Greetings to the glitched community in which we refer to as society.  
This is a new book I'm initiating, which happens to be a Criminal Minds fanfiction. In the future, I may let this story become a crossover with 'Flashpoint', a TV show created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern. I have many ideas in alternative paths in which I may direct this story. I hope you enjoy what I have so far. I do not have an upload schedule because I am participating in a musical and am on the tech crew for another musical and a play.**

 **"Have a wonderful bountiful lustful day." - Joan Koh**

 **Section One  
Part** One  
 _Curtains_

* * *

"Every woman that finally figured out her worth, has picked up her suitcases of pride and boarded a flight to freedom, which landed in the valley of change."

― Shannon L. Alder

* * *

This isn't how I wanted this day to start.

When I woke up this morning by my blaring alarm, I accidentally tipped over the glass of water I had gotten last night and ruined the digital clock. I groaned, inspecting the damage. The numbers on the small screen were fizzling out, and then I realized how bad of an idea it was to pick it up while it was wet and still plugged into the wall.

I let out a yelp as it shocked me, dropping it on my foot, which caused me to fall into the window curtains. From instinct, I latched onto the curtains and tried to keep myself from falling, but to no avail. I tore the curtains down with me, getting tangled in the heavy lunk of fabric. I sighed. What a great way to start the day.

"Courtney? Are you alright?" My brother, Tyler, asked through my bedroom door.

"Yes, I'm fine," I groaned, sitting up and unraveling the curtain. My brown hair was falling out of the make-shift braid I had done at three in the morning.

The door opened, and there stood Tyler, dressed in old sweatpants with our high school's logo on the side and a grey sweatshirt. His eyes widened as they scanned over the area struck by chaos. His eyes shifted from the fried alarm clock to the broken curtain rod, and finally to the floor where I was still attempting to escape the grasp of the repugnant fabric.

"What the hell happened in here?" He asked with a laugh.

I looked at him straight in the eye. "You don't want to know."

Tyler laughed at me once again, before turning and leaving. I finally escaped the clutch of the aggravating curtain and huffed. Walking into the bathroom, I groaned at the side of my face. It was turning red from where my face came in contact with the bed rail. That's going to leave a bruise.

I flipped open my phone to check what time it was. 6:21. I had a little more than thirty minutes to grab a shower, get dressed, and attempt to cover the incoming bruise. I can manage this.

I started the shower and grabbed some clothes from my closet. I chose a light blue button down and black pants. Laying them on the toilet seat so they wouldn't get wet, I undressed and stepped into the shower.

The warm water felt nice on my back, which was bruised from J.J. I quickly rid my hair and body from as much dirt as I could, managing to do so in six minutes.

I turned the shower off, pulling the beige towel off of the floor outside the shower. I quickly got dressed and brushed my extremely wavy and annoying hair. Just last week, I had given up on trying to keep it straight. I never could use the straightener properly.

I squatted down on the bathroom floor, opening the cabinet doors. I pulled a safe into the light, entering the code before taking the gun and holster out. I clipped it onto my hip, making sure it wouldn't fall off. I also reached under the foam padding and pulled out my newly made credentials.

I, then, pulled out my small, very small, box where I kept all of my makeup. I attempted to match the concealer to my skin, but I had definitely gotten paler since the last time I wore makeup. There was a slightly obvious skin change, so I attempted to blend it with powder. It was the best I could do.

Walking out of the bathroom, I remembered that I needed to get my bag, a leather messenger bag with forest green fabric on the body, before I forget it. I looked around, spotting it on the corner of my half-made bed. I sighed, realizing that I forgot to make it after the chaotic start of the day.

I put the bag back down and hurried to the other side of my bed, the side I sleep on. I was running behind, and I didn't want to be late for work. In my rush, I completely forgot about the heinous curtain. My sock covered foot got caught under the stupid thing, causing me to fall. Luckily, I landed on the curtain. I exhaled loudly in annoyance. Today was just not my day.

I finally managed to get up and make my bed, before rushing down the hall and to the kitchen. Tyler had gotten dressed and was donned in a light green button up shirt with a black tie, and black pants to match.

I sat down at the table next to him. "Well, what's got you up early and looking so fresh?"

Tyler glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, not turning his face from the documents he was working on. "It's my day off, so Katie decided that it was about time I met her parents."

I whistled lowly. "Good luck, big brother. I wish you the best."

"Yeah, me too," He muttered. I could tell he was actually nervous. "But I have to finish some paperwork before I do anything. If I don't finish it now, I probably never will."

Tyler was a surgeon at -. Whenever he got a day off, he either did one of three things: finish paperwork, come to the barn with me, or hide away with Katie all day, his girlfriend. They've been together for five months now, but they never told Katie's parents because they wanted to be sure they were serious. They belong together.

"You'll be fine, Ty," I said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I gotta go, but I'll see you tonight."

As I started for the living room, Tyler called me back. I turned toward him. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

I sighed, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He smiled.

"Thanks for that, baby sis, but I was talking about your bag," He said with a laugh. I smacked my hand against my forehead.

"I almost forgot! Thanks, Ty!" I gave him a hug before rushing to my room, grabbing my bag, then running back through the living room, into the front hallway, and out the door.

"I love you!" I yelled, hearing his reply before shutting the door. Walking down the three steps and to my car, I started digging through my bag for my keys.

"Oh, come on!" I whispered angrily, sifting through the many trinkets in my bag.

A hand touched my shoulder and I spun around, my hand on my gun. Tyler was standing in front of me, dangling my keys in front of my face. "Looking for these?"

"Tyler, don't do that!" I replied, smacking his arm with one hand and grabbing the keys with the other. I unlocked my car, getting in and tossing my bag in the passenger's seat. "Thanks."

"Hey, relax. You'll be fine."

"I'll relax when I sleep."

Tyler sighed, shutting my door. I rolled down the window.

"Hey, just remember what Jason used to tell us."

"'Stay out of my kitchen'?" I smirked.

He rolled his eyes and tapped the side of the car. "Think about it. Call me when you remember."

I waved at him before backing out of the driveway and down the street. I looked at the radio in the car to check the time. It was a quarter after seven, which means I'm only fifteen minutes behind schedule. I took a deep breath, telling myself that if I just think about everything in a positive way, it won't have that much of a negative effect on me. I continued driving down the road, pulling into a small cafe.

I couldn't help but stop and think about what Tyler was talking about. Jason used to tell us a lot of things, but after he disappeared, I attempted to block most of the memories out of my head.

Stepping out of the car, I tripped over the shoelace of my chucks, causing me to loose my balance and fall to the ground, or so I thought. An arm grabbed my torso before I could hit the ground, resulting in me awkwardly putting my weight on this stranger and my legs stretched out in front of me.

"I'm so sorry!" I rushed, slightly in shock.

"Are you okay?" The man asked. I looked up at him. Big brown eyes stared into mine, his hair falling over his cheeks. I scrambled to my feet.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, looking down. "Today is just really not my day."

"I can tell," The mysterious stranger replied. "Are you sure you're fine? You look like you hit your head."

"What?" I reached up to my left temple and found that a cut from this morning had gone unnoticed. How the hell did I manage to miss that? "Oh, that. Another reason today isn't my day."

He examined the wound with careful eyes. "Are you sure?"

I laughed nervously, "Wow, you sure do ask that a lot." I stepped backward and stuck out my hand. "The name's Courtney Porter. Dr. Courtney Porter."

"Doctor?" He asked, surprised.

I smiled. "PhD's in Mathematics and Philosophy."

He nodded his head, impressed. "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering."

"Nice."

He smiled softly before checking his watch. "I really should get my coffee, I'm running late."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "What time is it?"

"7:26."

"Oh, God," I stressed, heading towards the door of the cafe. " I had planned to be out of here by 7:30."

"Well, then you better hurry," He replied, awkwardly following me into the cafe. "Where are you headed?"

I sat at the bar, Dr. Reid sitting next to me. "I've gotten a new job with the FBI."

He looked seriously surprised. "FBI?"

A sigh left my mouth. "Just because I'm small and I don't look serious doesn't mean I can't be in the FBI."

"Oh, no! That-that's not what I meant. I work in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I have no doubts about you being capable."

I almost dropped my wallet that I had just pulled out of my bag. "That's where I'm headed!"

"Really?"

"I got fast tracked through the system. An old friend of mine pulled some strings."

"Spencer Reid!" A woman in her late forties shouted, hopping over to us. She had a maroon shirt on and a white apron. "Dolce figlio! How are you?"

"Hi, Mrs. Lauredon," Dr. Reid waved. "I'm doing well, how about you?"

"Ah. Questa mattina ho visto una maglietta nella quale c'era scritto."

I laughed, which gained the woman's, Mrs. Lauredon's, attention. She looked between Dr. Reid and I before smiling. "Has my sweet son brought me someone? What is your name?"

"Um, Dr. Courtney Porter," I smiled anxiously. "Nice to meet you."

"You as well, my dear!" The woman said cheerfully. She was full of energy. "What can I get for you?"

I glanced up at the overhead menu, choosing an iced tea. "Ah, good choice, una bella ragazza." She turned to Dr. Reid. "And your usual, Spencer?"

"Yes, please."

"Coming right up!"

Dr. Reid turned to face me on the bar stool. My mind absently noticed the chucks on his feet. "I like your shoes."

He looked down and noticed our matching footwear. He chuckled, "You too."

"I wouldn't expect a man with three PhDs to be in such a casual form of footwear," I expressed. "Although I am certainly not judging, as I am in a similar position."

Dr. Reid shrugged, blowing his hair out of his face. "Sometimes it's okay to be different."

"Amen!" I reply loudly.

Mrs. Lauredon returned with my tea and Dr. Reid's coffee. "Here you go! Enjoy!"

We said our thanks and goodbyes and exited the cafe, walking towards our cars. I stopped next to mine.

"I'll see you there, I guess?" He said awkwardly. I chuckled and nodded.

"See you there, Dr. Reid."

I opened my car door, sitting on the brown leather seat. "Oh, uh, it's- you can call me Reid."

I looked up at him. "Okay, Reid."

I backed out of the parking lot, starting the rest of the journey to my new job.


	2. 1-2 : Gasoline

**A/N: Greetings to the glitched community in which we refer to as society.  
Another chapter here. I think I might stick to updating at the end of every month, although I might be able to squeeze another one in the next week, but no promises. Remember to review, it helps with my writing. Thank you to Hazel for helping me edit this chapter. I hope you feel better.**

 **"Have a wonderful, bountiful, lustful day." - Joan Koh**

 **SECTION ONE  
PART TWO**

 _Gasoline_

* * *

I followed Reid into the large building. I have only been here twice before, but I was here long enough to know my way around. Either way, I continued to follow Reid to the elevators. I slowed my pace. "Are there stairs?"

Reid turned to look at me. "Um, yeah. Down that hallway and it's the last door on your left." He pointed to his left at a short hallway with around 5 doors on both sides. "Don't like elevators?"

"You know, the Bureau of Labor Statistics reported 68 elevator-related deaths from 1992 to 2003. That's around six per year, and if we want to get technical, 6.181818182."

He smiled. "Nice. We'll take the stairs."

I laughed and continued to follow him down the hallway, occasionally sipping my tea. I looked at the walls, noticing the awkward pictures that just happened to be there. They were of field agents in different departments of the FBI. I didn't get a long enough chance to read the metal plates on the frames because we reached the stairs. I threw the empty cup in a nearby trashcan.

"The BAU is on the fourth floor," Reid voiced.

"I know, I had to meet with Section Chief Strauss last week. Needed to finalize paperwork."

"Where did you work before to get fast tracked? Must've been important."

"CIA," I said shortly, attempting to end the conversation. He stopped on the third stairwell, causing me to bump into him and tumble down the stairs. We were only halfway up the third stairwell, but my side still stung when I hit the wall from my landing.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Reid rushed back down the stairs and knelt down next to me. I heard a door open and an unfamiliar voice called Reid's name.

"Reid? Was that you?"

"I'm fine," He responded, helping me up. "Are you okay?"

"You shouldn't stop in the middle of the stairs. I don't have good brakes."

Heavy footsteps bounded down the stairwell. I looked up as I stood, rubbing my arm. A well built black man came down the stairs and to us. He was donned in a grey t-shirt and dark blue jeans. His eyebrows raised at the sight of me. "Who is this?"

I stuck out my hand on the arm I didn't land on, "Dr. Courtney Porter. You?"

The mystery man took my hand and shook it. "Morgan. Are you okay?"

I nodded. "I'm fine. I'm not fragile."

The three of us continued to walk up the stairs and I felt grateful that I wasn't required to go into detail about my previous job at the CIA. "I heard Reid's shout, and thought he fell down the stairs. Luckily, I was heading this way, anyway."

"Why didn't you just go to the elevator?" Reid questioned as we exited the stairwell.

"It broke down," Morgan said. Reid and I stopped walking. "They're working on getting the people out." Morgan turned to look back at us. "What?"

We looked at each other. "6.181818182."

Morgan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

Reid smirked and I laughed. "Never mind," I replied, "Can you direct me to SSA Aaron Hotchner?"

"Follow me," Morgan answered. The man led me through the bullpen, which I had briefly visited last week. "His office is the first on the platform."

"Oh great, more stairs," I sighed before smiling at the two men and walking towards the office. The stairs were, like the floor of the bullpen, carpeted, and much easier to ascend. I knocked on the door and heard a faint, "Come in."

The mahogany wood door opened at the force of my hand and my eyes diverted to the man sitting behind the desk. The man, Agent Hotchner, was clad in a crisp suit and tie, his style perfectly fitting the "businessman" stereotype. He looked up at me, I assume noticed who I was, and stood to greet me. "Dr. Porter?"

I stuck my good hand out, resting my other arm on the top of my bag. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Hotchner."

"Call me Hotch," He stated, the serious look in his eyes never once wavering. "Sit down. I want to go over a few things with you."

I sat in the chair on the other side of his desk, using my non-bruised arm to lower my bag to the ground.

Hotch opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a file. "Your work is very impressive. I've been in contact with Panetta and I think your skill set would be valued here."

"Thank you. I assure you I will put my heart and soul into this job."

"That's what I want to talk about." He flipped to a certain page in the file and laid it in front of me. It was a picture of my old partner, Landin Kasik. "This is Kasik, am I correct?"

I nodded.

"It is imperative that you try to put this in your past. Every case we take, we count on each other with our life. Kasik was a bad man, and you can guarantee that every one of the agents here have gone through heavy background checks and I assure you that we will not allow any black hats on this team."

I smiled slightly. "I admit, my past with Kasik is one that I knew you would be worried about, but I do intend to put that behind me. I have been participating in a group therapy session that Panetta helped me get into once a week."

Hotch nodded shortly, flipping to another page in the file. "My next question is about your relationship to fFormer SSA Jason Gideon."

"It's in the file."

"I have the official case documents. What I don't have is your emotional recount of the incident."

I leaned back in my seat, folding my hand around the arm of the chair. "What do you want to know?"

"After the case ended, you kept in contact with Jason for a while. He impacted your life, am I correct to say that?"

I nodded, smiling slightly. "My brother and I used to go to his cabin with him for weeks at a time in the summer. He helped me with my schooling and introduced me to Leon. I understand that he was also in the BAU, but he taught me everything I knew going into college, where I expanded my learning."

Hotch nodded, looking down at the file.

"Listen," I said suddenly. His head glanced up, eyebrows slightly raised. "I know it isn't often that an agent gets fast tracked through the system, but I did and I will answer any question you have, but I can see that you have suspicions about my work performance in reference to my past. I want to do my best to save people before it's too late for them and they suffer the same fate as others. Profiling is a skill that I have been working on ever since I met Jason, and he taught me his ways. The only way my past would affect my performance would be in a positive way to help us catch these criminals."

Hotch looked surprised at my slight outburst, lowering the file slowly. I gulped. "I know."

"I know, I'm sorry- wait. What?"

"I know."

"You know what?"

"You want to save people because you know how it feels to lose people."

I put my head down. "This job is taxing. The only thing I'm worried about is your ability to cope with the triggering circumstances outside of cases. We can't save everyone, and that takes a toll on people."

I nodded, looking into his eyes with as much intensity as I could manage. "I will. If I have a problem with this job, I promise that I will say something. Unless you don't want to see me, then this is awkward."

Hotch smiled slightly. "I wouldn't be having this conversation with you if I didn't. You are a part of this team."

Unfortunately, before he could finish his thought, a knock sounded on the door. "Come in."

A young blonde woman entered the small office looking at the file in her arms. "Sir, I've gathered everyone in the- Oh! Hello!"

Hotch stood, me following. "JJ, this is Dr. Courtney Porter. JJ is our communications liaison."

JJ reached a hand toward me. I took it. "Is JJ short for something?"

"Jennifer Jareau," She smiled. JJ turned to face Hotch. "I've gathered everyone in the roundtable room."

Hotch nodded. "Follow me, Dr. Porter."

We left the office and continued walking down the raised platform. When we entered what I believed to be the roundtable room. I spotted Reid and Morgan sitting at the table, along with two other people.

"This is SSA Dr. Courtney Porter," Hotch announced. "Dr. Porter, SSA Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid."

I waved before sitting down at the table. All of a sudden, a woman wearing blue and purple dress with white lace and blonde hair quickly walked into the room on her heels. "Okay, sorry I'm late." She stopped before the last open chair that did not have a case file before it. "Oh! Hello! Who are you?"

"Garcia, this is Dr. Porter," Hotch informed the colorful woman. "Garcia is our Technical Analyst."

"Hi," I replied.

"You're really pretty," Garcia said, still standing.

"Garcia," Hotch said, a stern look stationed on his face.

"Right, sorry," She replied, setting her coffee on the table and sitting in the chair.

"Okay," JJ said, still standing in front of the large monitor. I opened the case file. "Let's get started. This is Gabby Hail from Little Rock, Arkansas. She went missing three weeks ago, and turned up in the Arkansas River 6 days ago. Right after that, Audrey Clementine disappeared."

"They were both taken from a movie theater?" Rossi asked.

"Well, it was the last place they were seen, so possibly."

"The C.O.D. was drowning, right?" Morgan asked.

"That's why we were called in. The toxicology reports found gasoline in her stomach and/that suggest that the unsub used gasoline to drown her."

Unsub? Usually, the term is subject. Unsub? Un-Subject? Unknown subject? That makes more sense.

"Gasoline?" Rossi questioned. "Why gasoline? There are a lot of other, cheaper, options."

"Gasoline contains hydrocarbons, and gasoline poisoning is very volatile, and causes throwing up blood, seizures, dizziness, drowsiness, euphoria, et cetera," I said. Reid looked at me.

"Maybe it's personal?" Morgan answered.

"Was there any sign of sexual assault?" Prentiss asked. I glanced down at the file.

"There wasn't."

"So," I started, "she was last seen at a movie theater? That's a low risk area. The unsub probably got her as she was leaving and getting into her car, but even then, people probably would have seen her."

"Maybe he used a ruse?" Morgan suggested. "'I lost my dog, can you help me'?"

Hotch stood up, straightening the files he was holding. "We will talk more on the plane, wheels up in thirty."


	3. 1-3 : Cameras

**A/N: Greetings to the glitched community in which we refer to as society.  
Two or three weeks ago, I believe, was when I posted my last chapter. I am aware that I said I would try and post another chapter that week, as it was my spring break, but I contracted the flu and was sick the whole time. When I went to the doctors on the Monday of spring break, the foreign doctor said, "Five days no school for you." I was extremely annoyed, believe me.  
Again, I would like to thank Hazel for proofing my story. I really should force her to get an account so she can be my Beta. I'll bring it up with her. Enjoy.**

 **"Have a wonderful, bountiful, lustful day." - Joan Koh**

 **SECTION ONE  
PART TWO**

 _Gasoline_

* * *

The jet was very nice, and much better than flying commercial. The space allowed us to spread out yet still be within earshot of each other while discussing the case, something that is hard to achieve under the circumstances of flying a commercial airline. I sat next to Reid, and across from Prentiss and JJ. In the first few minutes before take off, I learned the first names of everyone, and that Reid had an eidetic memory. He is an interesting character, and our shared love for knowledge is a force to be reckoned with.

After going over the case, Hotch and Rossi moved to their own spots with their own conversation going, leaving us to our own devices. The team faced me. "What?"

"How old are you?" Prentiss asked.

"I'm twenty-six."

"Are you a genius, too?" JJ asked. Reid's head snapped up.

I laughed, "Well, I wouldn't say that I'm a genius. I'm just a quick learner. I graduated high school at 16 and got into Penn State at 17."

"Nice," Morgan said, "but please tell me you won't spout out random facts and statistics like kid over there."

"What's wrong with facts?" I responded. "Did you know that-"

Morgan groaned and I laughed again. "Facts are interesting, not to mention helpful."

"Yeah, but I can go without having not one, but _two_ people yapping statistics in my ear all day."

Although his words sounded rude, the look on his face showed that he was only joking. Taking the others reactions into account, I'd say that he teases Reid about this issue a lot.

"My love for knowledge cannot be ignored!" I announced, standing up and heading towards the bathroom, but stopping by Morgan's seat. I leaned down close enough to whisper, but loud enough for the others in the area to hear. "Did you know that the average Intelligence Quotient for Americans is 104.11? Fact."

I left for the bathroom, leaving the laughing humans to their own devices.

* * *

As soon as Courtney entered the small bathroom, JJ, Emily, and Morgan turned to face me. I scanned their faces. "What?"

"Dr. Porter seems nice," JJ said, but her tone had an underlying meaning that I can't understand. "Don't you think?"

I cleared my throat. "Yeah, she seems nice. Why?"

"Pretty boy's got a crush," Morgan sang. I looked at him incredulously.

"I do not!" I said, and it was true.

"I don't know, Reid," Emily said. "You and her seemed a little... friendly."

"We have a lot in common," I muttered, looking down at the book I was reading, 'Plato: The Republic'.

"You aren't helping yourself here, Spence," JJ said.

"How am I supposed to help myself here?" I asked. "I've learned that no matter what I say, it won't change anything."

" _What's this I hear about boy wonder having a crush?"_ Garcia's voice rang from the monitor. I kept my head down.

"I don't have a 'crush' on anyone," I insisted. "Can I not interact in a platonic conversation with the opposite sex without having you guys accuse me of having romantic feelings for her?"

"When you talk like that, no," Morgan chuckled.

" _Wait, are we saying Reid likes Dr. Porter?"_ Garcia gasped and leaned into the screen.

"It looks like it," JJ answered.

"Looks can be deceiving," Courtney said, coming back to her seat next to me. "What are we talking about."

"Nothing you need to worry about," Morgan said with a playful smile on his face.

I glanced at Courtney out of the corner of my eye. She had an unreadable expression on her face.

" _So, Miss Fast-track,"_ Garcia said, gaining her attention. She raised her eyebrows questioningly. " _What made you want to join my crime fighting superheroes?"_

"'Miss Fast-track'?" Courtney asked, ignoring her question. "Where on earth did you come up with that?"

"Uh, don't ask," Morgan said, chuckling. "She has a very creative mind."

" _Got that right, ya' hunk of steel. Now answer my question."_

"Kinda feel like I'm being ganged up on," Courtney answered, addressing the onlooking eyes of my team and I with a nervous chuckle. "What do you want to know?"

" _Oh, I want to know who this is,"_ and a picture of a man standing next to Porter popped up on the screen. Courtney laughed.

"That's my brother, Tyler."

" _Well, you can tell him I say 'hello'."_

"He has a girlfriend, Garcia."

" _Pffft! Who said I wanted to date him?"_

"You implied it."

Garcia stared at Courtney for a moment, before snapping back to earth. " _What did you do before coming here?"_

Porter hesitated, before answering with the same answer she gave me. "CIA."

If she didn't have everyone's attention before that, she did now.

"CIA?" JJ marveled. "For how long?"

"Three years, seven months, and twenty-four days." The seat belt light came on and the pilot announced our descent. We said goodbye to Garcia and waited for the jet to land. Courtney was quiet after that.

* * *

"Okay, we will meet back at the precinct in an hour," Hotch said, releasing us to go to our assignments. Morgan and I are going to look at the abduction sight, Prentiss and Reid are going to the dump site, and JJ, Hotch, and Rossi are going back to the precinct to talk to Gabby Hail's family. Morgan got into the driver's seat and I got into the passenger's.

"Both girls were taken on Tuesday nights, at a public cinema," I started, watching the road ahead of us.

"They were also last seen at around 9-10 o'clock on the theater's security cameras," he added.

We pulled into the first theater, Riverdale 10 Cinemas. Getting out, we parked in the area of the parking lot that Gabby's car was found, along with her purse, phone, and car keys. "So Gabby's car was parked here, within a good walking distance from the door," I said. "It must've not have been that crowded." 1.6 miles.

I walked up to the theater doors, turning to face the parking lot. "Okay, I'm Gabby. I just got out of the movie, what time is it?"

"She was seen exiting the building at 9 something," Morgan contributed.

"Okay, it's late, and a school night, so I want to get home so that I can sleep. I'll go straight to my car, unless I was here with friends. Who reported her missing?"

Morgan checked his phone. "Her best friend, Kelsey." His eyebrows rose, surprised. "Kelsey was seen on the camera feed, too. Good job."

"Thanks," I replied, trying to keep my mind focused on becoming the abduction. "Okay, so I have a friend with me. I'll walk her to her car if it isn't that far away from mine. We need to contact Kelsey, see if we can have her tell us what happened when she left."

"Well, if she walked her to her car, then she probably walked straight back to the driver's side of hers." I walked a few spaces down from where Gabby's car was and then walked towards the SUV door. "I was distracted by my friend, so I didn't have my keys out." Opening the door of the SUV, I grabbed my messenger bag and shut the door. "Okay, if I'm focusing on finding my keys, I don't see anyone behind me or hear anyone approach."

Morgan walked up behind me. "Since her bag was found in her car, but the keys weren't in the ignition, I'd say the unsub came up behind her and asked for her help. She opens the door," I did as he said, "puts her bag inside, then helps the unsub."

I perambulate my way to the other side of the SUV, glancing at the loading station for concessions. "He could've had a van parked in the loading dock," I said. "Any other spot would've been too out in the open."

"It wouldn't look suspicious, and it would conceal the area enough for the unsub to blitz attack her."

"No, there weren't any abrasions on her forehead. I'd say she followed the unsub to the back of the van." Morgan led the way to the spot of question. I followed, imagining the scene, just like Jason taught me to. Once we stopped, I glanced at the door leading inside the theater, I assume to where they keep concessions. _If this is a loading dock for merchandise, then there is bound to be a camera somewhere to prevent people from tampering with the products._ "Morgan, look. Camera."

He glanced up and sighed. "If you're right, then this could've been prevented if they checked all of the cameras."

"I'll call Garcia."


End file.
